


The Dragon and the Firebird

by Dawn_Blossom



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes
Genre: F/F, Grima helps Laevatein prepare for the New Year's Festival, then Laevatein basically asks Grima to come with her as her date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 17:25:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17228204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dawn_Blossom/pseuds/Dawn_Blossom
Summary: “Nobody wants the fell dragon at their celebration.”“I do…” Laevatein says quietly.





	The Dragon and the Firebird

**Author's Note:**

> Grimatein is my second favorite Grima ship and I've been trying for months to write SOMETHING about them. Thank you New Year's banner for finally giving me enough inspiration to at least put out this little oneshot.

“There. A hundred strokes.”

Grima puts down her hairbrush. Laevatein’s hair is completely soft and smooth. Grima’s work here is done.

Laevatein turns around, staring silently at Grima. She is waiting for a remark, Grima assumes.

But it is hard to comment when, frankly, Laevatein is breathtaking. Warm red and orange hues combine with a feathery trail give her the appearance of a firebird. It is a fitting motif, for she has risen from the ashes of her old life and set Grima’s world aflame with her powerful light.

But that is a hard thing to explain to a woman who still wishes to be as hard as steel. That Laevatein looks to her with vulnerable eyes is the surest sign of her faith in Grima, the fell dragon herself.

No other human has ever trusted her so much.

“Your attire is perfect,” Grima says. Her voice comes out smooth, though she feels she is choking the words out.

“It feels strange…” Laevatein says. “But my sister is wearing something like this, too.”

“It is the tradition.” Grima stands up from her position on her bed. “There is another, as well…”

She opens the door to her closet. Normally she keeps naught but her own clothing in there, but in this case the Summoner thought it best that Grima be the one to deliver Laevatein her festival weapon.

In truth, no one else has the courage to ask Laevatein to separate from her sword. She tells them all that she is the blade. Some heroes are fool enough to believe it.

Laevatein stares blankly at the staff Grima places in her hands. She says nothing for a moment, but Grima is patient.

“This is not Laevatein.” 

There it is. The light in Laevatein’s eyes dims, a sure sign of her displeasure. 

“Heroes taking on representative roles in the festival are given special weapons for the occasion,” Grima explains. “It is a gesture of goodwill.”

Laevatein continues to stare down.

“I have trained my whole life with the blade,” she says.

“And the strength you have earned belongs to you,” Grima says. “You do not need the blade. All your power is at your own command.”

It is not the first time that Grima has told her this, and she knows it will not be the last. Laevatein has spent so long being her father’s weapon, and her heart is too steeled to burn with a destructive rage like Grima’s… 

Someday, Surtr will pay for his crimes against the innocent. But today, it will suffice to show the phoenix in front of her that she is every bit as great and magnificent as legends can tell.

“... Laevatein is better,” Laevatein says, but she grips the staff a little harder. “But maybe, just for the festival… I can lay it down.”

“If that’s your decision.” Grima nods approvingly. “I believe you will enjoy yourself.”

Laevatein’s lips curl into the faintest of smiles. 

“And you, too,” she says. “With a staff, I can heal you. You can relax.”

“What?” Grima blinks. “I thought you were going to the festival with Laegjarn?”

“I’m going with my sister,” Laevatein agrees. “And with you… Right?”

“With me? I'm not…” Grima frowns. “This is a human festival.”

There is no place for Grima there. She is the very antithesis of what everyone hopes the new year will bring. They want peace and happiness. She brings only ruin.

“There are other dragons going,” Laevatein points out. “Fae… Nowi…”

“They behave like children,” Grima says quickly.

“Corrin…”

“Half human,” Grima retorts.

“Tiki, even the older ones...” Laevatein continues, never missing a beat.

Grima scowls. 

“There’s nothing…” She pauses abruptly. If she suggests that the festival is worthless, then Laevatein will no longer want to go. That isn’t what Grima wants.. It isn’t as though there is no value at all in having a day of rest now and then. But even so… “Nobody wants the fell dragon at their celebration.”

“I do…” Laevatein says quietly.

“...Why?” Grima cannot stop herself from asking. “You will be well off with your sister. Why do you want me there?”

“Even though I’m happy I get to see my sister in this world,” Laevatein says, “without you, I would be lost in this place…”

Grima does not think that this is true. The Summoner would not have allowed Laevatein to wander aimlessly around Askr.

… But then, she doubts that the Summoner could have truly understood Laevatein. How many people can say that they were created just to destroy? How many know what it’s like to be born a tool for someone else to use?

Laevatein suddenly grabs onto Grima’s sleeve. Grima does not allow just anyone to touch her, and Laevatein is the same way. It is odd, then, that touches between the two of them feel so natural. But they do, and so Grima’s response is not to pull away, but instead to draw closer.

“Laegjarn explained this festival to me. She knows everything,” Laevatein says. “She says it’s about family. She is my sister, so I want to celebrate with her. But she says that there are other traditions, too. That in some countries, the new year is celebrated between couples. And so…”

Suddenly, Laevatein is very, very close. She places a quick kiss to the corner of Grima’s lips and then immediately takes several paces backward.

Her flushed face is cute. Far cuter than Grima’s dumbfounded one, certainly.

“You…” Grima ineloquently splutters. “You… love me…?”

The thought is impossible. Who could ever love the fell dragon? She is not a human. She is nevertheless too human. Her blood is chimeric, her form an abomination. She is a monstrosity, she is a god, she is set apart from everyone, she cannot live among them…

“I am happy when I’m with you,” Laevatein says. “It’s different from when I’m with Laegjarn. It’s cold in the castle. I feel warm next to you. I am your sword. You are my shield. I want to be at your side, always… That’s love, isn’t it?”

“Perhaps...” Humans are so fickle with their emotions. One day they speak of bonds, the next they break them. But she cannot imagine that Laevatein would ever lie to her, nor is Laevatein one to make careless statements. 

Maybe the feelings between them _could_ be love.

Grima steps forward. It is her turn to reach for Laevatein.

Laevatein takes the invitation, pressing herself closer to Grima’s chest.

You like this?” Grima asks. How can anyone enjoy despair’s grip?

But Laevatein gives her a tiny nod.

“Are you happy, too?” she asks.

Grima feels like she is choking again.

“... Yes,” she forces out, and then, to save herself, she captures Laevtein’s lips in a kiss.

“Happy” does not sufficiently describe it. To have the devotion of this ever-burning flame of a woman… it is a feeling beyond compare. She will not betray Laevatein’s loyalty. The two of them, the dragon and the firebird, will soar through the sky together over the ashes of all who have ever wronged them.

When she pulls away, she can see that Laevatein is pleased. Her eyes are bright, and her mouth is again curved in a small smile.

“So, then…” Laevatein says. “You will come to the festival with me.”

It is not a question. The kiss has emboldened her.

Grima chuckles.

“If you insist.”


End file.
